


The First Sunday in February

by SeemaG



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Super Bowl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29270292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeemaG/pseuds/SeemaG
Summary: Ever the traditionalist and a lover of hot wings, Kathryn Janeway organizes a Super Bowl party for the crew.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway, Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres
Comments: 20
Kudos: 37





	The First Sunday in February

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rocky_T](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocky_T/gifts).



> As usual, those responsible know who they are.
> 
> My gratitude to Rocky for the beta; this story is for her. Also my husband who was very patient with my "how does this work again?" questions. Any and all touchdowns are to their credit.

“So, let me get this straight,” Chakotay said as he fell into step next to his captain. “On the first Sunday in February, two Earth-based teams play a game, and the planet comes to a complete stop to watch?”

“Something like that, though technically it was more of a phenomenon for the North American continent,” Kathryn Janeway said. “American football – to distinguish it from soccer, which the Europeans refer to as ‘football’ - is not as popular as some other sports in the AQ, but there’s something about a good football game between evenly matched teams.” She carefully balanced a covered casserole dish as they made their way to the Mess Hall. “My family made a tradition out of watching the game together every year.”

Chakotay warily eyed the dish she was carrying. “And what do you have there?”

“Hot wings. Not that you ever _need_ a reason to eat hot wings, but the Super Bowl is a good excuse. I’ve spent the last few days getting the recipe exactly right. And don’t worry – I have vegetarian options for you.”

Chakotay smiled. “Given how interested the crew was in tsunkatse, I’m sure this party of yours will be a great success. Any opportunity for the crew to spend some leisure time together will be well appreciated.”

The doors to the Mess Hall swished open and Janeway was gratified to see that Neelix had already arranged the sofas so they faced the newly installed large screen on the far wall. The Talaxian had also set out food on the counter and a mixture of savory smells wafted through the air.

“Captain! Commander!” Neelix hurried over to them. “I hope all the arrangements meet your requirements.”

Janeway smiled. “It’s perfect, Neelix. Thank you for putting this together on such short notice. That the data stream and the big game coincided at the same time was indeed fortuitous.” She gestured at the dish in her hands. “Where can I put this?”

“Right over here, but really, Captain, I have everything under control. There was no reason—”

“There’s _always_ a reason for hot wings, Neelix,” Janeway said. Just then the doors swished open and Tom Paris, followed by B’Elanna Torres, entered. Both were out of uniform, with Tom wearing the jersey of the San Francisco 49ers while B’Elanna wore a simple sleeveless blue dress over leggings.

“I _told_ you we weren’t late,” B’Elanna hissed to Tom.

“You’re just in time for the tail-gating party, actually,” Janeway said. “Kick off is in fifteen minutes.”

“’Tail-gating’?” asked B’Elanna and Chakotay in unison.

“Food before the game,” Janeway said. “Traditionally grilled – and consumed - in the stadium parking lot, but I think we’ll be forgiven if we just combine it with the refreshments for the game itself.”

“Great,” Tom said, rubbing his hands together as he looked first at the buffet of food and then at the sofas. “I can’t wait. I haven’t been to a Super Bowl party since the Academy.”

“I’ve never been to one, but I did take the liberty of doing some research,” Chakotay said. “Anthropologically speaking, it’s fascinating how a sporting event can have such resonance to multitudes of people who may have little or nothing else in common, and how such a tradition can continue for hundreds of years.”

“My father got us tickets to the 2355 Super Bowl in Atlanta. It was the hottest ticket in town, but I really wanted to be there,” Tom said. “The 49ers were playing, and the quarterback was deemed the next Tom Brady.”

B’Elanna blinked. “Tom Brady?”

“A quarterback for the New England Patriots in the 21st century before he switched teams. Tampa Bay, I think,” Chakotay said thoughtfully. “He was known almost as much for his longevity as he was for his accomplishments on the field.”

“You _have_ done your research,” Janeway said, beaming, just as Harry Kim arrived. His blue and yellow jersey bore the logo of the Los Angeles Rams. Tom didn’t bother to hide his surprise.

“Not a 49er fan, eh, Harry?”

“Sorry, Tom,” Harry said cheerfully. “You know that the Rams’ running game is much better than the 49ers’.”

“`Running game’?” B’Elanna asked. “I thought this was a _foot_ ball game. Don’t they kick it?”

“There are many ways to move the ball down the field,” Janeway said briskly. “And either way, gentlemen, the point is moot. Neither of your teams are playing today.”

“There’s always next year,” Tom declared. “With the right quarterback—”

“Quarterback? Try strategy,” Harry scoffed. “And coaching…”

Janeway smiled as she watched the two men bicker back and forth. Next to Tom, B’Elanna crossed her arms against her chest.

“Don’t forget to add this to your anthropological study. _This_ is what Super Bowl Sunday is all about,” Janeway whispered to Chakotay, who had to edge closer to hear her.

“Arguing?” Chakotay asked.

“Trash talk,” Janeway said. “Ah, I remember some very heated discussions back in the day, and that one game, I think it was 2349 when the Colts faced off against the Browns in a really high-scoring game?” she shook her head. “A few days passed before my parents would speak to each other again, and the two teams weren’t even divisional rivals!” She scanned the buffet approvingly. In addition to the hot wings, there were potato skins, 7-layer dip, pigs in a blanket, popcorn, chili, and corn dogs. “This reminds me of home,” she said.

By now other crew members were filtering in, including Seven of Nine, the Doctor, and Tuvok. In the face of the growing crowd, Tom and Harry had evidently decided to abandon their argument, at least temporarily.

“We better find a good seat,” Tom said in a low voice to B’Elanna. “You know how hard it is to see over Chell’s head and I don’t want to miss a play.”

B’Elanna nodded in agreement. Tom and B’Elanna secured a seat in the first row, and following their lead, Janeway quickly removed her jacket and threw it over a chair set at the table closest to the television.

“Captain’s prerogative to save the best seat in the house,” she said with a cheeky grin to Chakotay, but Chakotay’s gaze was concentrated directly on her chest. “What are you staring at?”

“Cleveland Browns? I would have thought you would have been a fan of the Colts, being that you’re from Indiana,” Chakotay said, indicating her brown and white jersey.

“My mother is a fan of the Colts, but my father was originally from northeast Ohio and I take after him in more ways than Starfleet,” Janeway answered. “And there’s just something about the Browns. The way they command your loyalty, despite the way the odds are always against them… That team has broken my heart so many times, and yet I keep coming back for more.”

Chakotay’s dimples were very evident. “Well, let’s hope that 2376 is their year,” he said. “What do you think their odds are against the Green Bay Packers?”

“Best they have been in years,” Janeway said. “Their quarterback has got a canon for an arm. Literally. Let’s get some food.” She raised her voice to carry over the crowd, “Harry, can you turn on the viewscreen? The pre-game show is starting.”

“This seems to be an inefficient use for the data stream,” Seven opined as she surveyed the crowd with her lips pursed together disapprovingly.

Janeway shook her head. “Quite frankly, Seven, I believe you are wrong. There is nothing _inefficient_ about boosting crew morale.” She waved her arm. “It’s been a long time since we took the time to relax and enjoy each other’s company.”

Seven’s expression remained stoic. “I believe the crew enjoys each other’s company in Fair Haven.”

Janeway cleared her throat and concentrated on serving herself some food from the buffet. “Fair Haven has been a good distraction, but this is different, Seven. This is about camaraderie, about cheering on the team you support.”

“And if one does not support a team?” Seven asked.

Janeway pointed. “Then there are always hot wings to enjoy.” With that, Janeway took her plate and sat in the seat she had commandeered earlier. Chakotay joined her, his own plate heaped high with food.

“I take it that Seven isn’t a football fan?” Chakotay asked.

Janeway shook her head. “No, but it’s a good experience for her. Soon enough she’ll learn that being a sports fan and rooting for your favorite team or player is part of the human experience. Nothing brings people together faster than realizing you have a sport and a team in common.”

“Good thinking,” Chakotay said. He relaxed back in his chair, taking the moment to unzip his jacket. “I think I’ll follow your example and support the Browns this time around.”

She flashed him a delighted grin. “That’s really not necessary, you know.”

“Well, you know I’ve always had a soft spot for the underdog.”

“Hey, that’s _my_ team you’re talking about,” Janeway said. She lifted up a hot wing. “This is perfection, Chakotay. With some ranch dressing? Nothing even comes close.” She pointed to her plate invitingly. “These are chicken, but I did help myself to some vegetarian ones too.”

Chakotay chuckled. “I’ve never seen this side of you before,” he said. He leaned forward. “And to be honest, I like it.” Without moving his gaze from her face, he reached over and swiped a hot wing from her plate and dipped it in the ranch dressing. Janeway watched him expectantly. She didn’t know why it was so important to her that Chakotay enjoy this appetizer as much as she did, but it was. He took a bite, and then his eyes closed briefly, before opening them wide and nodding.

“Delicious,” he said.

“I knew from the moment we met that you had good taste,” Janeway said. “Ooh, it’s time for the opening kickoff!” She continued to eat as the game unfolded on the screen. The Packers won the toss and elected to receive, but quickly went three and out and had to punt. During the commercial break, the captain glanced around the room. It seemed like the crew was having a good time, and she saw Tom and B’Elanna cuddled in the corner of their sofa, while Harry was animatedly speaking to Tal Celes and Freddy Bristow.

“Oh! The Browns have the pigskin!” Janeway yelled. “Now you’ll see some action!”

“`Pigskin’?” Chakotay asked, looking confused.

“That’s just another term for the football,” Janeway said briskly. She jumped to her feet as the running back broke a tackle and started racing upfield., “Go go go!”

And then the Browns player was down, and in the ensuing tackle the Packers stripped him of the ball and recovered the fumble. Joe Carey, wearing a green and yellow Green Bay jersey and an odd hat he’d declared was a “cheesehead”, whooped enthusiastically.

Janeway scowled. “Damn.”

“Now what happens?” Chakotay asked.

“The Packers get the ball back,” the captain grumbled. “But we held them once, we can do it again.”

Sure enough, Cleveland was soon in possession of the ball once more. “Try not to give it up this time,” the captain ordered in the same tone of voice she used on the bridge when they were taking enemy fire. The quarterback dropped back to pass, but the ball passed through the hands of the wide receiver and bounced on the turf.

“No good?” Chakotay asked hesitantly.

“Incomplete pass. Second down – they still have the ball, so they get to try again,” Janeway said. “The objective is to gain ten yards for a first down.”

Chakotay blinked. “I thought the goal is to get the ball in the end zone and score.”

“It is,” Janeway said. “But you can do it in increments, just as long as you get ten yards by fourth down.”

Chakotay nodded as if that made sense, and took another swig of beer.

Janeway started pacing back and forth, her hands on her hips. “Can you believe the coach called for another run on third down?” She started muttering around her breath as the teams lined up again but before the play clock expired, a time out was called and Janeway decided to take the opportunity to settle her nerves and grab more food. While she was at the buffet table, B’Elanna joined her.

“This is something I’ve never understood,” B’Elanna said. “This game. There was a league on Kessik IV, but I never went to any of the games.” Her lip curled. “My father was a fan, but my mother didn’t think it was Klingon enough – too many ‘roughing the passer’ calls, not to mention all the penalties for ‘unnecessary roughness’. She didn’t think there was a lot of honor in the game and some of that might have rubbed off on me, especially after my father left.” She turned back to the screen as a combination of excited shouts mixed with groans rose from the crowd. “There were a couple of parties at the Academy, and I went once, but I didn’t stay long.”

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself this time,” Janeway said.

“It might as well be Vulcan to me, but I’m trying my best to follow,” B’Elanna admitted. “And Tom is having a good time, and so I am too.” Her cheeks flushed slightly as she spooned some cheese and sour cream on top of her chili. “And it’s _not_ Fair Haven.”

Janeway raised her eyebrow at the evening’s second mention of Fair Haven but before she could ask the chief engineer for more details, the Doctor joined them, a disapproving look on his face.

“I must protest, Captain. Do you know how much saturated fat, let alone sodium, there is in that stuff?” he said indignantly, pointing at the chili. “There is only minimal nutritional value to _anything_ on this menu,” he said with a haughty tilt to his chin.

“There’s protein,” B’Elanna offered somewhat lamely.

“It’s not about nutrition, Doctor, an authentic Super Bowl menu is all about what _tastes_ good,” Janeway said firmly.

“Might I recommend kale chips as a substitute?”

“You may not,” Janeway said and to underscore the point, she added a few more hot wings to her plate. The Doctor sighed, but before he could speak, Tom Paris joined them.

“This is such a great game! The Packers are in the red zone! I really think they have a shot,” Tom said excitedly. “I know it’s just the first quarter, but I really like the way they look.” And then as if seeing Janeway’s jersey for the first time, he quickly backpedaled, “Uh, sorry, Captain.”

She dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand. “It’s all right, Tom. Someone has got to root for the opposition. That is half the fun, isn’t it? An opportunity for one group to exult not only in their own team’s victory but in the other team’s defeat?”

“I guess, if you say so,” Tom said, clearly discomfited by the fact that he was rooting against his captain. Janeway lightly laid her hand on his forearm.

“It’s just a game,” she said consolingly, even if in her heart of hearts, she didn’t actually believe that. Still as a leader, it was imperative for her to set a good example for her crew. She turned to the screen. “And I really like the commercials.”

“B’Elanna got a kick out of the targ bowl,” Tom said as Seven came up next to him. “Targ puppies really are very cute.”

“I found the advertisement for Broht and Forrester to be very compelling,” the Doctor said, his visage taking on a very thoughtful expression.

“The holonovel publishing house?” Tom asked. “I have to disagree with you on that. I thought the beer commercial was pretty funny. All of those medieval knights charming their enemies with a drink? Maybe the next time we run into the Borg, we should offer them a beer instead of a volley of photon torpedoes.”

“Doubtful,” Seven said. “The Borg do not consume alcohol.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Maybe they should give it a try. Might work to lighten those nanoprobes up a little.”

“Now, Tom,” Janeway said, though she did think his suggestion might have some merit, not that she was particularly keen on sitting down for cocktails and canapes with the Borg queen any time soon. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a team to cheer for.”

As the evening went on, the crowd in the room dwindled as the food was consumed and as it became more and more clear which team was going to go home with the trophy. By the end of the fourth quarter, only the senior staff was left, and if Janeway was being very honest with herself, there was something about celebrating watching her team clinch the Super Bowl title with the people whom she considered her family now.

“This was fun, thank you,” B’Elanna said as she and Tom prepared to leave.

“We should really do this again,” Tom declared emphatically.

“Same time next year?” Chakotay asked.

“First Sunday in February,” Janeway said with a nod. “Of course, there’s no guarantee that your favorite team will be playing.”

“Here’s to the 49ers making it next year!” Tom said.

“You’re wrong, the Rams have a much better chance!” Harry retorted.

“You are both incorrect,” Seven said. “I have computed the algorithms, and I believe the Ravens will be in contention.”

Janeway arched her eyebrow as she and Chakotay exchanged glances.

“The Ravens? _Please_. My money is on the Texans,” B’Elanna said.

The argument continued as the foursome exited the Mess Hall. Chakotay stared after them and then turned to Janeway.

“Looks like it might be a while before they find some common ground,” Chakotay said with a little chuckle. “Was tonight everything you remembered?”

Janeway hooked her arm through his. “Yes,” she said. “More, actually.” With those two words, she knew she didn’t want this night to end. Conspiratorially, she added, “And I might have a couple of non-synthehol beers stashed away in my quarters.”

Chakotay furrowed his brow. “Isn’t that against regulations?”

“One that can be waived with a dispensation from the captain,” Janeway said. Her eyes twinkled in merriment. “And I just happen to have one.” She took a deep breath and took care to keep her voice even. “Would you like to join me for a celebratory toast?”

“With pleasure.”

As they left the Mess Hall, Janeway knew this would be a Super Bowl to remember.

_~ the end_


End file.
